


Brother Mine

by agent_wheeler



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, BBC Merlin was a good time to be alive, F/M, I don't think it has any swears but also I wrote it at 2am so who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_wheeler/pseuds/agent_wheeler
Summary: The past catches up with both Lancelot and Gwaine. One is pleased, the other, less so.
Relationships: Gwaine/Original Female Character (Merlin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Prologue

Following the defeat of the immortal army, it took a great number of weeks to wrestle Camelot into some form of order. For those in the court, it became increasingly apparent that Uther was in no fit state to resume his role as head of state, and so it came to pass around a week after the battle that Arthur was named Regent, King in all but name, and the duties of running the kingdom were foisted onto his young shoulders.

It fell to the knights to restore order in the lower town, where it was clear that a number of ne’er-do-wells had decided to capitalise on the chaos at the centre of government to engage in less-than-salubrious activities. Thus, it wasn’t altogether surprising when a number of the new Knights, those of the round table in the castle of the ancient kings, found themselves in the throne room following a large-scale arrest that had been made the night before. 

Sir Leon, who had led the raid on the tavern that had turned to operating as a brothel, began speaking first. In between where he was standing and Arthur, who was pacing on the dais, were three women, all kneeled and wearing thick iron manacles. “Sire, these women were found during our operation last night, working at the Inn of the Setting Sun. The man who was organising their activities sits in the cells as we speak, as the law is clear on what is to be done with him, but I’d hoped to bring these women before you to understand what you would intend us to do with them.” 

“You have a wisdom beyond your years, Sir Leon,” Arthur said, “and I believe that we are in a fortunate position where we can use these girls as an example that a new age has dawned in Camelot.”

A murmur of agreement went around the assembled knights and courtiers. Many of them had been surprised by the maturity and compassion that Arthur had exhibited in his new role. From right at the back of the room, Sir Lancelot cleared his throat. “Sire, if I may?” He asked. Arthur waved his hand to indicate that he should continue. “I think it would send an excellent example as to the mercy of Camelot if these women could be given positions in the serving staff within the Castle. It would give them a chance to build themselves a stable future, as well as showcasing your mercifulness.” 

Arthur had always been impressed by Lancelot’s valiance and determination to do the fair and just thing. He took a moment to consider what the Knight had suggested, and then nodded. “I think that that is the right course of action, thank you Lancelot.” Arthur said. “Sir Leon, see that these women are introduced to the Book-keeper within the next week. House them in the cells in the interim, but be sure to brief the Guards that no harm is to come to them, and that they are here as guests of Camelot until we can get them alternative lodgings.” 

Leon took this as his cue for the women to stand up, and he head them back out of the room, as Arthur turned around and looked out of the large stained-glass window that decorated the wall behind the dais. From where he’d been standing, Lancelot hadn’t really had a chance to look at any of the women, but as they left, he managed to get a better look at their faces, and his heart plummeted. _What was she doing there?_


	2. That Night

Lancelot had left dinner that night as quickly as he could. He needed to get down to the dungeons and reassure himself that he’d just been imagining things. Fortunately, no-one seemed to notice his quick exit. It wasn’t hard to blag his way past the Guards at the entrance to the cells, he was a Knight of Camelot after all, and found the cell that the three women were being held in. It was late, and so they were all asleep. “Cecile!” He whispered. He tried again, more insistently, and by the third time, the woman had begun to stir. 

“Cecile! It’s me, it’s Lancelot.” He whispered, and the woman made her way over towards the entrance to the cell, moving into the light cast by Lancelot’s torch. Seeing her up close for the first time since he’d been made aware she was in Camelot, Lancelot almost gasped aloud in shock. It was unmistakably still Cecile, and her dark hair still framed her circular face in much the same way as it had when he had last seen her. What was new, though, was the pallor of her skin, and the way her eyes had sunk into her skull, with no trace of the youthful exuberance that the Cecile of his memory lit up with every time he had thought of her.

“They told me they’d made you a Knight, but it’s still strange to see you in the uniform after all these years.” Cecile said, quietly. Lancelot couldn’t be sure if she was whispering in the name of not waking up the other girls, or if she was genuinely unable to talk any louder. He hadn’t known much about the raid that Leon and some of the others had carried out the night before, but he didn’t imagine it’d been pretty.

“Yeah,” Lancelot said, smiling, “sometimes I can barely believe it myself. After all our talk growing up, I’m finally where I’ve wanted to be all these years.”  
“I wish I could say the same,” Cecile muttered, darkly.  
“How did you find yourself in Camelot?” Lancelot asked.  
“Working in a brothel, you mean?” Cecile asked, and Lancelot didn’t move to correct her.  
“Work had dried up where I was, and I’d heard that Camelot was under attack. I’d wondered if I’d might be able to find work here, but it seems that the locals in this land are far less tolerant of a female mercenary than anywhere else I’ve been.”  
“You’ve been fighting?” Lancelot asked, shocked.  
“Oh come on, little brother, what else am I able to do? I’ve never sewn anything in my life, and I’ve never had the connections to a court to be able to find respectable work in a city such as Camelot.”   
“You’d be impressed at my skills with a sword, I’d think, since you’ve last seen me.” Lancelot said, proudly.  
“I should hope so! You can’t have been older than twelve when I left, and you’d only just moved on to fighting with a full-size sword. I’d like to think you’d at least learnt something in the last eight years, even if you’d lost your best teacher.”   
“It’s so surreal to see you again. I thought I’d lost my mind when I saw you in the Throne room. You’re lucky, you know, that Arthur has such compassion.” Lancelot said.  
“I know that, and honestly, it’ll be the most stable employment I’ve had in a number of years. It’s a proper opportunity to be proud of myself.”  
“You don’t have to do this, you know. I could tell Arthur who you are, and you’d be able to join the Court as a courtier, because I’m a Knight.” Lancelot offered.  
“Little brother, that’s very kind of you, but can you really seem me walking round in pretty dresses for no reason for the rest of my life? That’s never been who I am. I think it’d send me mad!” Cecile replied. “Although, if I manage to get myself in trouble again, I might have to take you up on your offer, if it gets me out of a pickle!” Cecile laughed, and for the first time, Lancelot felt like he had his half-sister back.   
“I’ll let you get some sleep, Sir Knight, I don’t doubt you’ll be training hard tomorrow.” Cecile said gently, withdrawing her hand from where it had come to be resting over her brother’s. She began to retreat back into the shadows, and as Lancelot turned to leave she heard him say, “It’s good to see you again, Cecy.”


	3. The Following Morning

Cecile and the others were woken with the sun the following morning by a Guard and a woman, who moved into the middle of the space, hooking her torch against the wall to give the space a little extra light. “My name is Gwen, the Prince Regent has asked that I take your measurements so that some working clothes can be made for you all.”   
Gwen was grateful, if somewhat surprised, when Arthur had found her that morning and asked if she had time to put together some outfits for their new arrivals. She knew it was just him trying to keep her busy so she wouldn’t stew over what had happened with Morgana, and whilst she waited to be given a new official role at the Court, she wasn’t going to complain at any work that was thrown her way. She’d trained as a seamstress after all, and it wasn’t as though she was out of practice, having spent a number of years tending to Morgana’s dresses.  
Word about the three girls - Gwen absolutely refused to call them by any of the other names that had been circulating around the gossiping circles of Court - had spread like wildfire. Very little was known about any of them, save for their names, but having spent an hour or so with them in the dungeons, Gwen didn’t feel that she could conclude that they were anything except for lovely girls who’d found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. They all seemed to be around her age, perhaps the red-haired girl - Alice - was a little younger, but Gwen felt an overwhelming urge to be nice to them all, whatever the others at court were saying.   
Once she was done with her measurements, she decided to stay a little longer, as she’d been enjoying the conversation. The tallest of the three girls, Cecy, hadn’t slunk back to her corner as the others had done, and instead stayed in the centre of the room.  
“What are the new Knights like? I’d heard rumours on the road that Camelot had made Knights of commoners for the first time in generations.” She asked.  
“Well,” Gwen said, “I might be a little biased, but I’d say they’re some of the strongest fighters Camelot has seen in a long time. Sir Elyan, well, he’s my brother, and we hadn’t seen each other in a long time before he returned to Camelot, but he’s loving the training that Arthur is giving him. He was a good fighter to begin with, but now he’s on top of his game.” Gwen gushed.  
“And what of the others?” Cecy asked.  
“Sir Leon has been Arthur’s friend since he was in shorts, but he’s not a new Knight, although he was part of the resistance with Arthur when he took back the Kingdom. Sir Percival doesn’t say much, but he’s got an enormous heart and a good sense of right and wrong. Sir Lancelot has an extraordinary sense of honour, and it’s good to see him finally get the recognition he deserves - God knows he’s got Arthur out of more than a few scrapes over the years! And Sir Gwaine will flirt with anything that moves. He tried it on me when he arrived in Camelot the first time, but I was rather preoccupied and disinterested. He’s a good sort though, and a phenomenal swordsman. If Red has you all on rota, like I suspect she will, you probably will get to meet each of them - although I pity the woman who has to serve my brother breakfast - he’s never been a morning person.”   
Cecile had stopped listening by this point though - the name Sir Gwaine was rattling around her head like a bad headache. If Arthur had made the Gwaine she’d known a Knight, then something was seriously wrong - that man had no sense of loyalty or commitment, and she’d never known him stay in once place for more than a season before getting bored and moving on. Still, she reasoned, it could be another Gwaine. She angrily shushed at the voice in the back of her head telling her that she was deceiving herself.


	4. The Next Day

Very early the next day, Red, the terrifying head chef, had come to fetch the three girls and show them to the communal sleeping space that they’d be sharing with a number of the other staff in the castle. The clothes that Gwen had had made for them were sitting on their individual bed-rolls, and Red gave them the instruction to get changed and present themselves in the central kitchen for roll call.   
The serving-dress of the women of Camelot’s court consisted of a thick, oat-coloured skirt and a light blouse, with a red cassock worn over the top and secured with a leather belt. All-in-all, it was a practical dress, although Cecile mourned the loss of the trousers she’d become so accustomed to before she’d arrived in Camelot at all. Hair pulled back into a bun, she followed Alice and Lara into the big kitchen, which was just off of the sleeping quarters.  
By the time they’d arrived, the room was already almost full of men and women in the same dress, all busy getting about their duties for the morning. Red caught Cecile’s eye, and approached the three of them. In a brusque tone, she informed Alice, the youngest of the three, that she’d been allocated to the laundry room for the remainder of the week. That left Lara and Cecile, both of whom were joining the Palace’s small army of waiting and cleaning staff. Lara was given instructions to report to the banquet hall, and then Red rounded on Cecile. “It seems that you have friends in high places, girl. I’ve had a request from one of the Knights that you be allocated to the Knights’ Wing for the foreseeable. It’s a position with a lot of responsibility, and if I catch wind of any funny business, you’ll be out on your arse before you can say _‘Pendragon’_. Do I make myself clear?” Red asked. Cecile nodded quickly, not trusting herself to speak. This was quite clearly the meddling of her brother, and, frankly she was torn between wanting to clobber him round the head for it, or thank him for saving her from the horrors of the laundry room. Red continued, “You’ll be taking breakfast up to Sir Percival this morning, and then carrying out any housekeeping that he wants done. You’ll find his tray at the doorway.” Red gestured over towards the large wooden doors at one end of the room, and then hurried away to shout at two of the younger boys on the kitchen staff for attempting to steal some pie. Cecile dismissed herself and when to collect the silver tray. 

It wasn’t a long walk from the kitchens to the Knights’ Wing, but Cecile enjoyed the sense of purpose that she felt walking along the corridors of the bustling castle. Reaching Sir Percival’s door, she knocked, and heard a voice inside tell her to enter. Pushing the door open, she noticed that Percival was already dressed for the day, although he hadn’t yet put his chainmail on, ready for training. He was looking out of one of the two large windows in the room. Once she was inside the room, Cecile announced herself. “Good morning, Sir Knight. I’ve brought you your breakfast.”   
“Can you put it down on the table?” Percival asked, turning round to sit down. “You’re new.” He observed, bluntly.  
“Yes, Sir.” Cecile replied. “My name is Cecy, and I’ve only just joined the castle staff, so you might have to forgive me if I get anything wrong. Are there any other tasks you’d like me to do for you this morning?” She asked, pouring Percival a drink from the water jug he kept at the side of the room.   
“I don’t suppose you’d be able to pop down to the armoury and grab my kit for training? I didn’t have time last night and I prefer getting myself ready up here.” Percival said.  
“Yes, Sir.” Cecile said, giving him a short curtsey and hurrying out of the room. Armour - now that was something she could help with. The armoury was right down by the training ground, and it took a full five minutes for Cecile to find her way there. She was relieved to discover that the room was empty, and it didn’t take long for her to find Sir Percival’s kit, putting it all in one of the baskets that had been left at the side of the room.

Returning to Percival’s rooms, she pulled out the armour, inspecting it as she laid it out on the table, Percival observing her from the other side of the table. “You seem to know your way around a Knight’s armour pretty well?” Percival asked. Cecily smirked inwardly at the double entendre, but just gave Percival a light smile. She moved over towards where Percival had stored his sword, pulling it out of the rack and giving it a once-over.  
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, Sir Knight, but whoever last polished your kit deserves the sack. Have I got time to have another go of this, before you need to be at training?”  
“Okay,” Percival said, “I need to be at training before the 9 o’clock bell thought.”  
Cecile set herself down at the table and began working, Percival watching her with growing curiosity and incredulity.  
“Where did you learn to work with a sword?” He asked.   
“Where I come from,” Cecile said, “it’s not so frowned upon for women to learn to fight. My half-brother and I used to practice a lot as children.” 

It didn’t take long for Cecile to finish her task, and she dressed Percival for his training. Once he’d left, she set about tidying the room, and then excused herself back to the kitchens.


	5. That Evening

Cecile’s final assignment for the day was to wait on the Knights’ dinner in the throne room. Around twenty Knights dined with the Prince on a daily basis, yet despite the small number of guests, the room was rowdy and loud. Wine jug in hand, she was working her way up the table refilling glasses, when she heard her name come up in conversation. She’d just resolved to ignore it, when the Prince himself made eye contact with her. She looked away.  
“So, Percival, this is your secret weapon? I must say, your sword-work was the cleanest it’s looked in a while today. Perhaps if we had this girl working in the armoury more often, we might finally make some progress with our formations.” Arthur laughed. “Merlin?” He said, waving his arm towards his personal manservant, “Fetch my sword from my chambers, it’s about time it was honed by someone who knew what they were doing.”

When Merlin returned, Cecile put down the jug she’d been holding, and moved to collect the sword and perch herself on the steps of the dais. She kept her head down, determined not to acknowledge the knights who were staring at her. She’d been warned when she’d arrived in Camelot the first time that the city didn’t have the most forward-thinking attitude towards women, but she hadn’t figured it was completely unheard of for a woman to know her way around a sword. Once she’d finished, she presented the sword to Arthur for his inspection. He looked it over, and gave her an approving “hmm”. 

“How on earth did you learn that?” He asked.  
“I didn’t grow up in this Kingdom, and in my hometown it’s not uncommon for women to learn to fight and maintain equipment.”  
“Still, this is battle-worthy.” Arthur said.  
“Thank you, Sire.” Cecile replied, giving a little curtsey.   
“What’s your name? You seem like someone who is useful to keep around.” Arthur said. Cecile supposed this was Arthur’s somewhat clumsy attempt at a compliment, but she took it nonetheless.  
“Cecy, Sire.”   
Cecile risked a glance at the rest of the table. At the far end, a number of the Knights were still engaged in their own conversations, but nearer Arthur, most of them were staring at her. Lancelot looked proud, if a little smug, and Percival was smiling, still pleased with himself after a good day of training. Sat directly opposite Lancelot though, and with a face like trapped gas, was Sir Gwaine. Cecile turned back to Arthur.   
“Did you say you’d learnt to fight too?” Arthur asked.  
“Yes, Sire.” Cecile replied, not entirely sure where this was going.  
“Well, I don’t think we want to miss this. Meet us on the training grounds at the 9 o’clock bell tomorrow and we’ll see what you can do.” Arthur said, clapping his hands together. Cecile could feel the excitement growing inside her. It’d been too long since she’d last had a sword to swing.  
“Sire,” a voice from her left called, “are you sure that’s a good idea?”   
“I thought you were supposed to be one of the progressives in our midst, Gwaine!” Arthur exclaimed.  
“Perhaps he’s just scared of being beaten by a woman.” Lancelot countered, eyes twinkling at Cecile.


	6. The Following Morning

Arthur had clearly managed to intervene and with no morning duties, Cecile found herself rummaging through the few belongings that had been returned to her from the Inn, and pulled on her riding trousers. Pinning her hair back firmly in place, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of anxiety as she arrived at the training grounds. She knew she had been good, but it’d been almost a month since she’d last found herself with a sword in her hand, and the Knights of Camelot were amongst the best in all the five kingdoms. 

As she arrived onto the grassy training area, Lancelot approached her, carrying a second sword. Passing it to her, he asked how she was feeling.  
“Mostly, I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” Cecile replied, honestly.  
“You won’t. Arthur won’t want to hurt the pride of any of the senior Knights, so chances are you’ll be fighting someone well below your skillset anyway. Although it would be funny to see you fight Gwaine after his little comment at dinner last night.”   
“No.” Cecile replied, a little too quickly for her brother not to notice.   
“You don’t want to?” Lancelot asked.  
“I wouldn’t want to see a grown man cry.” Cecile joked. They’d arrived at where Arthur and some of the other Knights were standing by this point.   
“Lancelot the ladies’ man strikes again.” Elyan shouted as they approached. The other Knights burst out laughing, and Cecile had to suppress the urge to gag. 

Once they’d warmed up, Arthur began pairing the Knights off. “Cecy, I thought we’d get you fighting Sir Benjamin.” Arthur said, gesturing towards a nervous-looking blonde man, maybe even more of a boy. “You’ll fight by the Knights’ code, until one of you is disarmed and on the floor.” Cecile nodded, and went to take up her position on the field.

They’d been fighting no more than thirty seconds before Cecile noticed that the rest of the field had gone quiet, as all the other Knights turned to face her and Benjamin. He was a good partner, but Cecile could see he was caught off guard at how good she was, and was beginning to tire at the relentless tempo that she’d chosen for the fight. It didn’t take her more than a minute before she had him in a headlock, and he released his sword as she pushed him to the ground. Keeping him at the tip of her sword, she stood back, and took a look around the field at the gathered crowd. Arthur looked shellshocked, Lancelot proud, and Gwaine like he was determinedly looking anywhere but at Cecile. 

As she helped Benjamin back to his feet, Arthur approached. “How would you like to fight one of my more senior Knights?” Arthur offered. Cecile beamed. “Sir Lancelot? Come here.” Arthur commanded, and Cecile could have burst in to song. She had taught Lancelot how to use a sword, and now she was going to use that to embarrass him. 

The other Knights didn’t even pretend to return to their own pairs, and they all gathered around to watch. Lancelot and Cecile adopted their initial stances, and Cecile flashed him a smile - this was exactly like old times, only the stakes were a little bit higher. She let Lancelot control the tempo of the fight at the start, hoping he’d fall into his old trap of setting out too fast in an attempt to land a blow quickly. Although his stamina had certainly improved, it wasn’t more than a couple of minutes before Lancelot began to show how much effort he was putting into each blow and parry. This was Cecile’s moment to take control of the fight. On the defensive until this point, she waited for Lancelot’s next blow, before returning it with a strong parry that had him struggling for his balance. This was her fight now. A series of short strikes later, Lancelot tripped over his own feet and found himself flat on his back. Now Cecile just needed to disarm him. He’d continued to swing wildly at her as he shuffled backwards along the floor, but he was being so predictable by this point, Cecile was able to anticipate one of his movements and latch her own sword underneath his, removing it from his grip with a sharp upwards movement. Acknowledging his defeat, Lancelot threw his head backwards into the soft ground, and stopped moving. Cecile stepped back to acknowledge her victory. 

Now Arthur was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. She helped Lancelot off the floor, and as she pulled him upwards, he whispered, “you’ve not lost your touch at all.” 

“Who’s next?” Arthur asked, incredulous.   
“If I may, Sire?” Gwaine replied. Cecile smiled, she’d been waiting for this. She knew his ego wouldn’t allow him to sit quietly. He’d have to prove that he was the superior swordsman. It’d been that way back in Mercia, and she’d bet any money he hadn’t changed.  
“Of course, Sir Gwaine.” Arthur said, and Gwaine made his way over to Cecile. This was going to be interesting. Four months ago, it probably would have been hit-or-miss which of them would’ve won. Now, through, Cecile was out of practice, and Gwaine had spent an extended period of time training with one of the most elite armies in the world. 

Stood facing her on the field, Gwaine flashed one of his trademark smirks. He was looking forward to this as much as she was. Right from the start of the fight, Cecile could feel herself working harder than she had against Lancelot, or certainly Benjamin. Gwaine was playing dirty, trying to get as close as possible in the hope of landing a punch or a kick to throw her off her balance. A part of Cecile hoped that Arthur would recognise this behaviour and halt the fight to reprimand Gwaine on it, but this didn’t seem to be forthcoming. Once she’d fallen into the rhythm of the fight, she’d almost forgotten that she was fighting in Camelot, in front of the future king. Gwaine had left his left side exposed in an effort to pull off some unnecessarily fancy trick with his sword, and Cecile used the opportunity to turn her sword around in her hands, and hack him in the side of his torso with its pommel. Immediately, as she knew he would, Gwaine fell to the ground. Curling to one side to protect his injured side, Cecile used his momentary distraction to stand on his sword, and force it from his hand. Now with two swords, she kept them both pointed at the man on the floor as she turned to face the Prince. She knew that that fight had been dirtier and more of a performance than the other two, but there was something personal about fighting Gwaine, and the victory still felt good. 

“Help him up!” Arthur ordered her. “How dare you injure a Knight of Camelot like that! As impressive as your skills with a sword clearly are, that in no way gives you the right to injure my Knights as if you’re a bandit. I order you to take him to the Court Physician, and know that if I ever catch you with a sword in your hands again, you shall be banished from Camelot for the rest of your life.” Arthur spat. 

Cecile felt herself deflate somewhat, as Arthur went off on his tirade. She pulled Gwaine off the ground, and wrapped his left arm around her shoulder to allow her to support his weight on his injured side. “You’ve put on weight since coming to Camelot.” She commented to him quietly, once they were out of the Prince’s earshot. He laughed.  
“You shouldn’t have played so dirty.” Gwaine replied, his voice a little unsteady with the pain.  
“I can’t help it, it’s habit by now.” Cecile replied.  
“You know, it took me a while for my brain to accept that it was really you in Camelot. Especially since you’re going by a different name.”  
“No, Gwaine, I’m going by my real name. Working as Henri gave my employers some plausible deniability when I was a sword for hire, but there’s something nice about being referred to by my childhood nickname here.”  
“What, Cecy? Makes you sound like you keep rabbits, or like you still need your mother to blow your nose. You’re so much more than that. It made me almost sick to see you selling yourself short over dinner last night, you know.”  
“Gwen wasn’t joking when she said you were still a terrible flirt then?” Cecile asked. Gwaine grumbled.   
“You make one bad pass on a girl on your first day in a new city, and she never lets you live it down. She was besotted with Arthur even back then, though.” Gwaine said. “Not that you’re to tell the Prince I told you that.” He added, quickly.


	7. Midday

Cecile supposed she was grateful Arthur hadn’t forbidden her from working in the Knights’ Wing altogether. Once she’d deposited Gwaine with Gaius, she went back to her own room to tidy herself up, and change back in to a skirt. She’d been hovering around the kitchen scrounging some extra lunch when an out-of-breath serving boy pushed through the kitchen doors calling her name. “Cecy? Cecy? There’s a Knight who wants to see you?” He said.  
“Who?” Cecile replied.  
“Sir Lancelot - he’s asked that you go to his rooms as soon as you can.” The boy told her as she busied past him. Relieved that she hadn’t been summoned before Arthur, she made her way up to Lancelot’s room and knocked on the door. He let her in almost immediately. However, her relief was short lived, as she noticed the Prince sat at Lancelot’s table.  
“Sire,” she said quickly, giving him a curtsey, “I’m very sorry that I hurt Sir Gwaine earlier.”   
“Actually,” Lancelot said, “the Prince wanted to apologise for snapping at your on the training ground. I think you caught him a little by surprise.”   
“I am quite capable of talking for myself, thank you Lancelot.” Arthur snapped, moving to stand up. “You’re a mystery, Cecy, you know that, right? You fight like a mercenary, but you don’t look older than Lancelot here, and none of the five kingdoms would allow a woman into battle. You said you didn’t grow up in this Kingdom, but you still confuse me. Is there anything you care to tell me to help enlighten me?”  
“I’m not half as interesting as you seem to think me, Sire.” Cecile acknowledged. “My father taught me how to fight as a young girl, and then I tutored my half-brother for a number of years. I left home after I couldn’t stomach any more of my step-mother’s efforts to make me into a ‘proper’ woman, and travelled around for a number of years, using my skills to make ends meet. I just happened to arrive in Camelot at the wrong time.”  
“Well you certainly gave Lancelot here a run for this money this morning,” Arthur said. “I’ve never seen anyone read someone so well in a first fight. That’s a rare skill even in the most trained soldiers.”  
“Ahh, well,” Cecile stuttered, and shot Lancelot a look. He shrugged, with a small smile on his face. She took this to mean that she could tell the Prince if she wanted. “Thank you, Sire. But today wasn’t the first time I’ve fought Sir Lancelot.” Cecile confessed. Arthur looked confused.  
“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Arthur said.  
“Sire, before Cecy says anything,” Lancelot said, “I’d hate anything she says to impact her position at Court. She’s enjoying her work, and I don’t think she’d want anything to change.”  
“Of course! I give you my word. Besides, if we put you back in the dungeons, I don’t suppose the Guards would stand much of a chance against you if you decided to try and escape.” Arthur replied. Clearly, he was expecting her to confess to some crime or other.  
“Lancelot and I grew up together. He’s my half-brother.” Cecile said quickly, pushing out the information in a rushed breath.   
“That’s not what I was expecting, I won’t lie to you.” Arthur said, shocked. “So it’s you we’ve got to thank for Lancelot being one of the best swordsmen in Camelot, then?”   
“I mean, I’ve not seen him in a number of years.” Cecile defended.“She’s being modest, Sire. She taught me all I know, I just then had a number of years without her to put them in to practice.”  
“I suppose we should be grateful you didn’t do Sir Gwaine any permanent damage then!” Arthur laughed. “Well, Cecy, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to keep you around. Still, I still don’t want you anywhere near a sword, unless you’re polishing it.”


	8. That Afternoon

That afternoon, once Cecile was done with serving lunch to the Courtiers of Camelot, she took a trip to visit Gwaine in the physician’s chambers. She knocked on the door, but rather than being opened by the elderly Gaius, who Cecile had met when she’d deposited Gwaine earlier that day, she was taken aback to see the door be opened by Arthur’s manservant, Merlin.   
“I take it you’re here to see the damsel in distress?” Merlin asked, gesturing to where Gwaine was lying on a bed in the middle of the room.  
“How’s he doing?” Cecile asked.  
“He’ll be okay, no thanks to you.” Merlin replied, shortly.  
“Oh, he’s had worse, he’ll be fine.” Cecile dismissed.   
“What do you mean?” Merlin asked, confused.   
“Gwaine and I know each other from another life,” Cecile explained. “I first met him in a tavern in Mercia as he was drowning his feelings after being banished from yet another Kingdom,” she recalled.   
Merlin looked mildly affronted. “I tried to get Arthur to change Uther’s mind, but he wouldn’t listen!” He protested.   
“Oh, I don’t think Gwaine blames you for what happened. I’m assuming you’re the Merlin he would mumble drunkenly about - I don’t think you’ve got a terribly common name.”  
“He talked about me?” Merlin said, blushing.  
“You made quite the impact on him, it seems, even if you did manage to get him in trouble.”   
“I seem to have a habit of doing that,” Merlin replied, quietly.  
“What do you mean?” Cecile asked.  
“I got Sir Lancelot in trouble too, the first time he arrived in Camelot. He was desperate to be a Knight, and so I forged him a seal of nobility so that Arthur would see him fight. It got him thrown in the cells and all, and Arthur had to break him out.”  
“At least I didn’t lie” a voice suddenly grumbled from the middle of the room. It seemed that Gwaine had seen it fit to join in the conversation. “Didn’t think you’d come back to check on me, Hen. Anyone would be forgiven for thinking you care!”  
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, just wanted to check I hadn’t done any permanent damage.” Cecile replied.   
“Hang on,” Merlin said, “Hen? Gwaine, I know you’re a sucker for nicknames, but that’s a bit much, even for you.”   
Gwaine laughed. “Ah yes, I forget, you’re being all respectable and upstanding now you’re at Court, aren’t you Cecy.” Gwaine said. “Don’t be fooled by her, Merlin. She’ll kill you soon as look at you.”  
“That’s harsh,” Cecile replied. She turned her attention back to Merlin. “My parents decided to give me a ridiculously long name when I was born. Technically, my full name is Henriette-Cecile, and when I was in Mercia I went by Henri, which Gwaine, for his love of pet names, shortened to Hen. I much prefer Cecile, though, and my brother called me Cecy for all of our childhood together.”  
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, stifling a giggle, “but Hen is an absolutely awful nickname.”  
“I know,” said Gwaine, “that’s why I keep using it!”  
Cecile looked for something nearby to throw at Gwaine, and it was lucky for him that what she’d found was a large towel, rather than something that might have actually hurt when it hit him square in the head.   
“Is there anything I can do to help look after our damsel in distress?” Cecile asked Merlin.  
“Would you be able to keep an eye on him whilst I pop up to check on Arthur? I swear sometimes that man forgets that I’m also working for Gaius, and don’t exist solely to be at his beck and call.” Merlin said.  
“Sure thing.”  
“Say hello to the Princess from me,” Gwaine chipped in. Merlin smiled, and closed the door to Gaius’ chambers behind him. Cecile took a seat on a stool just away from where Gwaine was lying in bed, propped up on his elbows.  
“So,” she said, uncomfortably, “reunited again. We have an unfortunate habit of doing this, don’t we.”   
“I think you’ll find I got to Camelot before you, so technically you’re the copycat this time.” Gwaine replied.  
“Except,” Cecile countered, “this time we’re not social equals. I honestly thought there’d been some mistake when I heard you’d been made a Knight. It’s not like you to commit to something. That doesn’t allow you to gallop off as and when the mood takes you.”   
“I almost couldn’t believe it when Arthur said he was knighting us all. It was mid-way through Morgana’s coup, and we were all so exhausted that Elyan and I convinced ourselves we’d hallucinated the whole thing.”  
“How is it, then? Finally living as a nobleman?”  
“It’s honestly less about that, and more about getting some of the best training I’ve had in my life. Yes, it’s nice that someone serves my breakfast every day, but even without that, I’ve found a really strong group of friends here, and I know they’re always watching my back.” Gwaine said, with a smile on his face as he reflected on the new family he’d found in Camelot. Cecile huffed, mildly hurt. Four months ago, she’d’ve willingly died watching Gwaine’s back, but it seemed that he didn’t want to accept that part of his history, now that he had proper, respectable, knightly friends.   
“I’m still angry, you know.” Cecile said. It’d been something she’d been meaning to confront Gwaine about at some point whilst they were both in Camelot, and now seemed as good a time as any. Plus, right now had the added benefit of Gwaine still being bed-bound and unable to give chase if she decided to bolt. An odd, closed look crossed Gwaine’s features, but Cecile continued, undeterred.  
“I know that it was all some big joke, that the others had been making comments, and that it’s my fault that I got invested, that I got my hopes up - but there have got to be better ways to make your point that don’t involve absolutely trampling all over my confidence by disappearing without a word!”  
Within a fortnight of Gwaine’s arrival in Mercia and his introduction to Cecile’s then-employer, some of the others in their unit had began to make comments about their seemed inability to say a nice word to each other. From there, a rumour had developed that they were only awful to each other in public to cover up the fact that they were secretly sleeping with each other. Initially, Cecile and Gwaine had laughed this off as stupid - they never actually meant any harm by the words that they said - they just knew that the other could dish it out as good as they got it, and so their friendship was built predominantly on verbal evisceration. After a particularly difficult assignment, however, something changed, and suddenly the tension that had always existed between the two master-swordsmen became even more charged. All it took, then, was an incredibly drunken night in a tavern, and Cecile found herself encouraging Gwaine’s advances. 

The following morning, however, Cecile had woken up early to a cold bed, and no sign of Gwaine anywhere. When she’d reported for work that morning, it became increasingly apparent that he’d bolted, and wasn’t planning on returning. Apparently, he’d been to see the boss very early in the morning to say that he was going to have to move on. He’d given no further explanation to anyone, least of all Cecile. Her last month in Mercia had been spent trying to ignore the nagging feeling that it was her fault that Gwaine had disappeared, that it was something she had done. The unit also mourned the loss of one of it’s best swordsmen, and Cecile’s last month in Mercia was the bloodiest of all her time there. That wasn’t a coincidence. She’d lost the person she trusted most to watch her back in battle.

In truth, the news of war in Camelot was only half of the reason she’d left Mercia. The other half was that because she’d never quite recovered from that betrayal of being abandoned, not just by a comrade who she trusted with her life, but by someone who she’d just got used to the idea of trusting with her heart.


	9. A Few Mornings Later

A couple of days later, Cecile found herself allocated to Sir Lancelot for the morning rota. Whether this was coincidence or meddling she wasn’t sure, but she resolved to come clean with him about Sir Gwaine. After all, she was grateful to Lancelot that he’d spoken with Arthur on her behalf, and had dulled his anger towards her somewhat. 

Knocking on her brother’s door and pushing it open, she was amused to see that Lancelot was still asleep. She retrieved the water jug that he kept on his table, and flicked some of it over his face. When this did nothing to wake him, she up-ended the entire jug over him.

Lancelot sputtered into life, a stream of curse-words on his tongue ready to scold the servant who had decided that this was an appropriate way to wake him. However, his anger died once he saw the mischievous smile of his sister, demurely setting out his breakfast. 

“I’ll complain to Arthur, you know.” Lancelot said, pulling himself out of bed.  
“No you won’t,” Cecile replied.  
“And how do you know that?”  
“You love me too much.” Cecile smirked. Lancelot dropped his head, defeated. Cecile knew she was right, Lancelot wouldn’t want to lose her now that they were back in the same city for the first time in almost ten years. 

Once he’d gotten dressed and sat down to eat, Cecile looked up from where she’d been changing his soaked bed-linen, paused, and cleared her throat.

“Lancelot, there’s something I need to tell you about. But I need you to promise me you won’t be angry.” Cecile said.  
“Right,” Lancelot said suspiciously. “Who have you slept with?” He asked, no hint of a joke.  
“Little brother!” Cecile scolded. “Do you really think so low of me?”   
Lancelot had the decency to look suitably chastised.  
“Okay, so if you’ve not slept with anyone, what did you want to tell me, that you were so nervous about?”  
“I didn’t say I hadn’t slept with anyone, I’m just upset that that was the first thing you’d thought of!” Cecile rebuffed. “It wasn’t recently though, and it was before either of us were in Camelot.”  
“You’ve slept with someone I know?” Lancelot asked, looking taken aback.  
“When I was working in Mercia, I worked with Gwaine for a little while. We only slept together once, and it was the day before he left Mercia, but I wanted you to know, because it felt wrong to keep it a secret from you.”  
Lancelot looked shellshocked. “You slept with Gwaine? You’re joking, right? Did he hurt you? Because, I swear if he did anything, he’ll have me to answer to.”  
Cecile didn’t say anything, but something in her face must have betrayed her.  
“What did that boy do?” Lancelot asked, the anger in his tone becoming more apparent with every word.   
“He disappeared. That morning, without a word. The first time I’ve seen him since has been here in Camelot.”  
“I mean, I guess that explains what happened on the training field the other day. I’ve not seen him fight that dirty in a while. Still, just give me the word and I’ll hurt him for you.”“No, Lancelot, don’t, please. I’ll deal with it, eventually. I just needed to tell you it’d happened.”  
“Well, I’m glad you did. I love you, you know that, right?” Lancelot said, pulling his sister into a tight hug.


	10. The Next Evening

The first time Cecile noticed something was amiss was the next evening, as she served dinner to the Prince and the Knights. Instead of their usual, jovial banter, an obvious frostiness had settled over some of the Knights sat nearest Arthur. Clearly, Cecile couldn’t just ask what was up, but the stiltedness of the conversations that passed over the table that night were a clear indication that something had come between the band of brothers. 

Retreating to a corner of the room, Cecile caught Merlin’s eye. She hoped he’d have noticed something was wrong too, and be able to shed some light on the situation, as he regularly attended the Knights’ training.  
“Did something happen at training today?” She asked him, in a hushed voice.  
“Something has happened between Lancelot and Gwaine. Elyan thinks it’s lady problems. They properly had at it in training today. For a while, I was worried one of them would end up with a serious injury. Arthur ended up having to intervene and ended training early for the rest of the Knights so he could give the two of them a talking-to,” Merlin explained. Cecile groaned inwardly. She’d told Lancelot not to lash out at Gwaine, and still he’d done exactly that.   
“Who started it?” Cecile asked.  
“Honestly, I’m not too sure. I think they both just had a bone to pick with each other, and it boiled over at training today,” Merlin replied. 

After dinner, Cecile found herself heating bathwater for Sir Leon over the fire in his chambers. The Knight was sat at his table, pouring over plans of some description, but she heard him put his quill down decidedly, and turned to look at him. Leon was looking at her, puzzled.  
“Is something the matter, Sir?” Cecile asked.   
“Yes, I mean…no, nothing, Cecy. How much longer on that bath?” Leon asked.  
“A couple of minutes, Sir. Is there anything else you’ll be needing me to do for you this evening?”  
“No, that’ll be all, thanks Cecy.”

Cecile finished drawing the bath, and was just about to leave when Leon called her name again.  
“It’s not really my business to ask, but as lead Knight I need to know when the performance of my men is compromised. Would you care to tell me what’s going on between Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine?”“Sir?”   
“Only, Sir Elyan believes that they’re fighting over you. I’m assuming you know about the incident at training today, and I need to tell you that that cannot be allowed to happen again.”  
“Yes, Merlin told me what happened. I’m not too sure what you’ve heard, but you can rest assured I have absolutely no intentions towards either of them.”  
Leon clasped his hands together, awkwardly. “Well, that’s good to hear. That’ll be all, Cecy,” he said, and Cecile fled from the room faster than was probably proper.

Cecile went straight to Lancelot’s room. Knocking on the door, she was relieved to learn that he was alone. She didn’t want to have to explain to another servant why she was charging around the Knights’ Wing.   
“What the hell are you playing at?” Cecile asked, storming into the room.  
“What are you talking about, Cecy?” Lancelot attempted to placate her. He was sat on the side of his bed, and Cecile came to stand in front of her.   
“Oh really? So, Merlin told me he was worried you were about to kill Sir Gwaine for no reason?” Cecile asked.  
“Cecy.” Lancelot said, seriously, “It’s important to me that you know I didn’t start it. I don’t know what assumptions Gwaine has made about us, but it seems to me that he feels threatened.”  
Cecile scoffed.  
“I know you said he walked out, but I’m wondering if he’s actually as over you as you seem to think.”  
“Regardless, I’m not interested in him. He’s had his chance, and he stuffed it.”  
“He’s not a bad man, Cecy. I know your wounded pride might not let you see that, but he’s a good guy.”“Lancelot, stop. One day, when you’re all grown up, I’ll explain the wonders of relationships to you, and you’ll learn that hearts are far more fragile and complicated than you seem to think.”  
“Would you, though? Ever consider forgiving him?” Lancelot asked.  
“I don’t feel the need to. I hadn’t thought about him in months before we both arrived in Camelot, and I see no harm in keeping it that way.”  
“Cecy, you’re still an awful liar. I’ve always been able to tell when you’re not being honest with me, you know? You start playing with the front of your hair, and you shift your weight around between your feet. You’re allowed to still feel hurt and betrayed, but you’re also allowed to move on.”  
“You’ve always had too much to say for yourself,” Cecile said, pushing Lancelot lightly on the shoulder as she came to sit next to him on the bed. She gave him a brief hug.   
“Promise me you won’t let him rile you up again?” Cecile asked. Lancelot nodded.  
“I think you should tell him about me,” Lancelot said. “I think it’d put his mind at rest. And it’d mean I have to watch my own back less in training.”  
“Yes, Sir.” Cecile said, in an exaggerated way, giving Lancelot a stupid bow and excusing herself out of his rooms. 

Cecile had almost made it to the end of the corridor when she heard a voice come from the doorway behind her. “Late night trip to see the boyfriend?” Gwaine asked, in a low drawl. Cecile sighed and turned around.   
“Excuse me, Sir Knight, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business?” She retorted. Gwaine rolled his eyes.  
“No need to get so defensive, Hen. I won’t tell Arthur.”  
“Oh, he already knows what’s going on between me and Lancelot. It wouldn’t be news to him.” Cecile replied, offhandedly.  
“So you are seeing him?” Gwaine said, incredulous.  
“Look, can we not have this conversation in the middle of a corridor?” Cecile asked, very aware that every other Knight also slept nearby. Gwaine nodded, and ushered her into his rooms. Once they were both inside, Cecile ran her hands over her head, collecting herself.  
“Look, Gwaine-” she started, but she was interrupted.  
“-I’m sorry, Hen. I’m so sorry. I was cold and cruel of me to leave you that morning, and I’ve been beating myself up over it ever since.” Gwaine said, talking over her. “I did it because I was scared. I know you probably don’t want to believe me, but I woke up that morning and just felt so settled. I was earning a decent wage, doing a job I loved, and I’d just convinced the girl I’d been interested in for months to give me a chance. And that scared me, if I’m being honest. It terrified me. And so I did the only thing I really knew how to do - run. And I ran from you, and I ran from Mercia, and I just kept running for months until I ended up back at Arthur’s side. But what I’ve learnt from being here is that feeling settled and secure isn’t something to be afraid of. It doesn’t mean that the life you’re living is any less exciting or of any less value. I like the fact that in Camelot people depend on me, and I can depend on them. I like having a proper bed, in a real bedroom. I enjoy the training, and the brotherhood and I don’t even mind doing Arthur’s bidding. I don’t know how to prove to you how much I’ve grown up since I left you, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say that I’m sorry for what I did. And I’m glad you’re happy with Lancelot - I can see that you make him happy too. But today it was just really hard to look him in the eye knowing that he had the girl I’ve wanted for the last six months, and that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it, because I’d blown my chance.”

Gwaine stopped talking, and there was a long silence in the room. Cecile was stunned into silence by Gwaine’s confession, and it took a while for her brain to catch up with the rest of her.

“Hen? Say something? Please?” Gwaine said, quietly. Cecile took a deep breath, and swallowed.  
“I’m not dating Lancelot,” she said. “He’s my half-brother. I hadn’t seen him in years before I got to Camelot, and so I’ve been spending a lot of time with him to catch up on lost time.”  
“But?” Gwaine stammered. “Elyan said.”  
“Elyan doesn’t know. Only Arthur knows, because I made Lancelot promise me he wouldn’t tell anyone. I’d hate the life of a courtier, you know that. I’ve never worn a nice dress a day in my life.”  
“I don’t understand you, you know.” Gwaine said. “Not only have you turned now the quiet, comfortable life of a courtier, which would be rightfully yours, in favour of service work, but you’ve also agreed to stay in a court where the Prince has forbidden you to touch a sword, in spite of the fact that I know full well that if it came to it, you’d probably best Arthur in a fight. You’ve always been a damn talented swordsman, and it kills me to see you sell yourself short here.”  
“I couldn’t keep living like that forever, though, Gwaine. Eventually, I’d run out of employers prepared to turn a blind eye to me, and I’ve have to settle down and do something respectable and proper, like my mother wanted when I left home. This job is my best shot at that. Do I miss the life I had? Absolutely. But, right now, this is the right place for me. It’s allowed me to reconnect with a brother I’d told myself I’d never see again, and for better or for worse, it’s allowed us to cross paths again and clear up all that happened. And I wouldn’t change either of those for the world. Yes, the laundry room smells awful, and Red, the head cook, is a menace to society. But, I think I like Camelot. I think it’s the right place for me.”   
“You don’t look like him, you know.” Gwaine said.  
“Who, Lancelot? We’ve got the same hair colour, and the same nose, but we’re only half siblings, don’t forget.”  
“He fights like you though. I guess I should have noticed that. I just thought my brain was playing tricks on me.” Gwaine conceded.  
“I spent years tutoring that boy, from when he was really small, I’ll have you know.” Cecile said with a smile, reminiscing on trying to teach an infant Lancelot which end of the sword he was supposed to hold. There was another long silence. Cecile noticed that since she’d stopped shouting at him, they’d both come to perch on the edge of the long table in Gwaine’s room.   
“I don’t want to ask for too much,” Gwaine said, quietly, head turned down. “But I’d like it if we could be friends again. I’ve missed you, Cecile.”   
“I think I’d like that.”


	11. Epilogue

It was a tradition in Camelot that on the Samhain’s Eve, a large feast is thrown. Two days before the feast, Cecile was walking through the market in the lower town, not really looking for anything in particular, just enjoying the hubbub of the city. Pausing for a moment to admire the wares of the jeweller, there was a tap on her shoulder from behind her. Turning, Cecile smiled at the sight of Gwaine, not dressed in his usual uniform, but instead in a soft shirt and jacket.   
“I believe you dropped this, my Lady.” He said, producing a Lily-of-the-Valley from behind his back. Cecile rolled her eyes.  
“I should think not, it’s not my colour.” Cecile replied.  
“Let us see?” Gwaine said, tucking the flower behind her left ear.  
“Why have you been following me?” Cecile asked. Gwaine cleared his throat.  
“The Samhain’s Eve feast is in two days time, and it’s custom for Knights of Camelot to bring a guest to the feast. I was wondering if, erm, you’d do me the honour of accompanying me this year?” Gwaine said. For all his mask of confidence, Cecile could see that he was actually really nervous.  
“Are you trying to woo me with how you’re a Knight, good Sir?” Cecile asked, laughing.  
“I’m sorry, it was worth a try.” Gwaine said, shrugging, seemingly defeated.   
“No, Gwaine, I’m joking. I’d love to, it’d be my pleasure.” Cecile conceded.   
“You’re serious?” Gwaine asked, reaching out to hold Cecile by the arm.  
“Absolutely.” Cecile replied, and left a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Red had almost had an aneurysm when Gwaine had arrived in the kitchens and asked that Cecile be excused the Samhain’s Eve from working so that she could accompany him to the dinner as his guest. Eventually, the older woman had relented, but Gwaine and Cecile had decided not to tell any of the other Knights of their plans. Even Arthur didn’t pry when Gwaine put in his request to have an extra chair laid out for his guest.

With all the secrecy, Cecile probably should have expected to get a reaction from the Knights when she entered, arm-in-arm with Gwaine to the dinner that night. She wore a new dress that Gwaine had ordered using not an insignificant portion of his last month’s salary, and Cecile had styled her hair to sweep over one shoulder. Although they weren’t late, a number of the unaccompanied Knights, as well as the Prince, were already there when they entered, making the silence that fell when they entered the room even more awkward. With all eyes on them, Cecile scanned the room. First, she made eye contact with Lancelot, who returned a proud smile. Arthur had probably seen this coming from a fair way off, and greeted the two of them with a warm smile. On his left, though, Cecile caught Elyan handing Percival a handful of coins, and she smiled. With a squeeze on her arm, Gwaine led her to her seat for the night, pulling out the chair to allow her to sit down. Immediately, Lancelot rose. “Knights, friends.” He said, raising his glass, “A toast to two idiots finally figuring out what we’d all seen coming from a country mile off.” 

Cecile stuck her tongue out at him. Some things never change.


End file.
